Horizons: A collection of science fiction short stories

by Nolan Edrik

  “So, the Rexnari, huh?” I said, not sure where I was going with it. “I hope they don’t take over the station and kill us all.”

  Slick move, Cal. Nothing better than the image of mass carnage to put a woman at ease.

  “Seriously. What is up their ass?” she said. I had never heard a Moirana say “ass.”

  “Did you hear what they did to the Bauerneia outpost in outer Cygnus?” she said.

  “No. What?”

  “So Bauerneia is a little gravity-wave observation station on the edge of nowhere. Forty researchers, ten crew. No weapons at all. Anyway, about thirty operating cycles ago, a Rexnari ship drops out of lightspeed next to the place, drills into it, and sends in a hundred soldiers. They kill everyone except for two researchers. One they took prisoner, and she hasn’t been heard from since. The other they left on the ship surrounded by all the corpses. Oh, and they smashed all the lights on the way out, leaving him stranded in the dark.”

  I shuddered.

  “What’s their problem?”

  “Who the hell knows,” she said. “No one’s been able to crack their language yet, and they haven’t shown an interest in talking anyway.”

  “At least they haven’t taken on a full space station yet. And we’re heavily guarded. Did you see those canons on your flight in? I bet they could shatter an M-type asteroid.”

  She shrugged.

  “Too bad we couldn’t use that space for more telescopes. It’s always such a pain to reserve time on the two that we have.”

  That led her into a discussion of the new gas-detection technology on the probes they were firing into planets’ atmospheres. Which turned into a review of new helium-3 collection techniques, then segued into an adorable rant about how crazy the federation was to still use fission reactors at some stations. I apologize if this all sounds boring, but her nimble intellect fascinated me.

  As she spoke, I relaxed enough to notice her. She was shorter and curvier than most Moirana and had rounded cheeks that reddened when she smiled, rather than the icy, angular slabs of the rest of her species. While this made her appear more human, and, at least in my opinion, more attractive, she had to feel out of place among her own kind. I could sympathize with that plight, my body never having graduated from the gangly, ill-proportioned phase of adolescence.

  After making an emphatic point about the deficiencies of the federation’s research-funding system, she stopped talking and glanced around. The room thinned out as the new arrivals strayed off to their rooms, hoping to rest up before their first day of work under new managers.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I must be boring you.”

  “Not at all. I think your work is fascinating. I’d talk about my job, but you’d fall asleep so fast you’d crack your head on the table.”

  “I doubt that. Try me.”

  “There’s not much to talk about. Humans and Moirana breathe almost the exact same mix of gases. So all I have to do is keep the concentration of oxygen within a certain range. Not much to it.”

  “Even if it doesn’t make for riveting conversation, I’m pretty partial to breathing. Taking care of the station, keeping the right gases flowing, that’s a noble profession.”

  “Gases? Noble? Did you make a chemistry joke?

  She laughed. “Totally unintentional.”

  “I guess I’ll let it slide…” and here’s where my own personality and my genuine attraction to her took over before I could stop myself. “…because I’ve xenon cuter than you since I’ve been at this station.”

  She put her hand over her mouth and blushed.

  *

  When I returned from the dinner, a message from Becky was waiting on my room terminal.

  “Hope your dinner went well. Did you meet Rynn?”

  “I did. She’s cool. And thanks for putting us at the same table. (I know that was you.)”

  Her response dinged into my inbox before I’d removed my nametag.

  “Glad to hear it! Please tell me you didn’t make any nerd jokes.”

  “Nerd jokes are great if used on the right girl.”

  “Ugh.”

  “She loved it. She blushed. Moirana rarely blush.”

  “She was probably embarrassed for you. They blush a lot when they’re embarrassed.”

  “No. You think?”

  “Sorry, Cal. Better luck next time.”

  *

  Thankfully, Orynna and I worked on opposite ends of the station, so I wouldn’t have to suffer the familiar embarrassment of crossing paths and having her pretend not to know me. Even without seeing her again, those first few days weren’t lonely. I ran into Jay in the mess hall, and he stopped by my room most nights to play video games.

  Six operating cycles after the welcome dinner, I sat hunkered down in the station’s main gas control room, running a scan for pressure leaks, when the door chimed behind me. I had five minutes until quitting time, so I figured my replacement, a surly Frenchman named Gabriel, had arrived. I hit the door-open button without taking my eyes off the screen.

  “What the hell?” a voice said from behind me. “Did I smell?”

  I whirled around in my chair to see Orynna standing in the doorway. Her hands rested on her hips, and she tapped a foot. I made a mental note to check with a biologist friend about why Moirana gestured the same way as humans.

  “I … uh … hello,” I said. Good one, Cal.

  “How long were you going to wait to call me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want me to. I figured I’d blown it with my stupid xenon pun.”

  “That was pretty awful.” She smiled. “It was also sweet. Sweet is rare, so I’m willing to give you a pass.”

  “Great,” I said, trying to tamp down my elation and sound casual. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow? You’re almost off now, right? Let’s take a walk.”

  “Now?”

  “You need to go do your hair? Come on.”

  Gabriel shuffled past Orynna, and, without looking at me, tapped the back of my chair in a way that meant, “You can leave.”

  *

  Kepler 42 had two domes: the bright dome and the night dome. Both spanned fifty meters in diameter, with twenty-meter high ceilings. One always blazed with full-spectrum light to mimic a sunny day. This was the bright dome. The other one – the night dome – offered a full view of space.

  The domes helped us keep our sleep and waking times in rhythm, since the station’s operating cycles stretched twenty-eight hours long, splitting the difference between the twenty-four hour human day and the thirty-two hour Moirana day.

  Orynna and I went to the night dome and sat at a small table along the side of the room. A dim bulb flickered on the table between us, mimicking a candle.

  “Oeuireaiu muo maeiunioea?” I said. I thought that was the Moirana phrase for, “How are you?” Judging by the way Orynna squinted at me, it may have been “my feet are majestic.”

  “How are you?” I said, this time in English.

  “I’m kind of annoyed, to be honest,” she said. “This whole week we’ve been so busy with defense drills that we haven’t gotten any work done.”

  “Really?” We hadn’t had any interference. At least not yet.

  “The first day, we practiced sheltering in place for an hour. The next day, we had to do three runs from our office to the escape pods. Later this week, we’re supposed to do three more runs, and in the dark.”

  “Wow.”

  “The worst was blaster instruction. My hand is still sore from an hour of shooting. Come on, I’m a scientist. The Rexnari are warriors from birth. If they invade this station, it isn’t going to be you or me stopping them.”

  “Yeah,” I said, “I’ll be hiding under my desk crying if we’re ever boarded.” Smart, Cal.

  *

  “So I hear, despite all odds, you and Orynna are still talking. Please remember that the Moirana value intelligence, honesty, and bravery. You’re set on the first one, f
or the most part. You’re good on the second one, to a fault. The last one, well, avoid the topic as much as possible.”

  *

  The next day I sat at my post talking to Jay over the com about whether Moirana notions of masculinity were antiquated, when the door tone sounded. I flipped on the screen. A hard-jawed military type scowled into the camera.

  “Jay, I have to go.”

  “OK, man. I’ll help you out and research pointers on seducing Moirana women.”

  “Please don’t.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I hung up and opened the door. The soldier marched in until he stood over my chair, and I had to crane my head back to see him.

  “Vitals Officer Arne Callahan?”

  “That’s me.”

  “I am Lieutenant Zander, here for your security briefing.”

  “I’ve read the manual. Seems like the standard procedures we’ve had at all the other stations. Pull all the combustibles – the hydrazine, the nitrogen tetroxide – from the external tanks to prevent explosions, monitor for rapid depressurizations, keep the—”

  “We’re implementing a new procedure that isn’t in the manual.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “In the event that Rexnari make it aboard the station, you will need to increase the oxygen concentration up to 25 percent.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “The matter is not open for debate.”

  “That’s going to make explosions more deadly.”

  “It will also make our soldiers perform better. Any encounter with the Rexnari will be a protracted battle, and our soldiers will need the boost.”

  “Aren’t the Rexnari oxygen-breathing as well? So it would help them too. And the effect would be canceled by—”

  “This procedure has been tested and vetted by multiple layers of military personnel.” He slapped a stack of paper onto my desk. “Follow it.”

  *

  As I walked toward Orynna’s office to ask her to the concert, I thought through all of the reasons she’d say no, so at least I wouldn’t be surprised. She’d have too much work to do. Or she didn’t enjoy music. Or she already had a date. She probably had a date. Almost certainly. I shouldn’t bother asking.

  I was about to turn around and slink back to my room, when Orynna stepped into the hall with a crowd of her fellow researchers. She spotted me and trotted over.

  “Aww, you came to see me,” she said.

  “Yeah. Hi.” My instinct told me not to ask her out. It screamed at me to pretend I had to tell her something else instead. Or was that my self-doubt talking?

  “What’s up?” she said.

  Did I have any fun facts about gases I could share? Or had the Rexnari slaughtered anyone in a novel way recently? I had to think quickly.

  “Concert?” I said. I wanted to slap myself in the forehead. Both for asking her at all and for asking with one word, like I’d recently learned English.

  “The one in the night dome tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Would you want to go with me?” Better. Even though she’d still turn me down, I’d managed a complete sentence.

  “I’d love to. Pick me up twenty minutes before?”

  *

  “You’re going on a date with a Moirana?” Jay said.

  I put a finger over my lips. The whole cafeteria didn’t need to hear about it. Especially since I’d certainly mess it up.

  “I guess so. I’m picking her up at her room, and we’re going to the concert together. That sounds like a date.”

  “Awesome,” Jay said. “I’ve been reading up on Moirana romance, and I’ve learned some good moves for you.”

  “Moves?”

  “Tricks you can do if it gets physical.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Hey.” Jay jabbed his noodle-loaded fork at me across the table. “You wouldn’t set foot on this station without studying the manual first, would you?”

  “No.”

  “You wouldn’t take out a lander pod without reading the instructions, right?”

  “No.”

  “So don’t try to seduce a Moirana woman without having a plan.”

  “Don’t use the word ‘seduce.’ It sounds—”

  “Accurate?”

  “Pervy.”

  The word bounced off Jay’s forehead and fell to the ground.

  “Anyway,” he said, “there’s one move called splunking that sounds promising.”

  “Splunking?”

  “It’s when you’re kissing, and you stop, go nose-to-nose, gaze right into her eyes…”

  I pictured this. Orynna’s face near mine. Our cheeks flushed, pupils dilated. Spacetime drifting to a halt as our souls intertwined.

  “…then slip your tongue into her left nostril.”

  I dropped my fork.

  “You what?”

  “It’s important that it’s her left nostril,” Jay said. “That would be the one on your right.”

  “Aren’t Moirana weird about ears and noses?”

  “That’s the point. It’s taboo for them, so that’s why it’s a turn-on. But it’s a taboo that everyone breaks. Like how humans enjoy—”

  I put my hand up to stop him. I did not want to know what sexual taboos Jay found discardable.

  “Where did you read this?” I asked.

  “Redshift.”

  “Isn’t that a satirical magazine?”

  “No. That’s Blueshift.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Come on. I think I know satire when I see it.”

  *

  I later realized that the move was called spelunking, as in cave-diving, and I debated whether to ask Becky about it. She’d chide me no matter what. Either for not knowing about such a time-tested maneuver or for believing that such a stupid tactic would work. So I decided to wait and see if it came up on its own.

  “Orynna and I are going on a date tonight,” I wrote.

  “Excellent! I’m happy for you. If a little puzzled at how you’ve managed it. What are you two doing?”

  “We’re going to a concert in the night dome.”

  “That’s great. Wear your blue suit. Not your green one. The blue brings out your eyes better. And makes you look less sickly.”

  For most of my time on Kepler 42, I’d been wearing my green suit, which was newer and fit better. I’d tried on my blue suit the other day and it pressed in tight around the middle, giving me a nylon-polyester jelly roll whenever I sat down. Maybe Orynna wouldn’t notice.

  “Any other advice?”

  “No. I think that’s all. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  I never did ask her about spelunking.

  *

  I walked to Orynna’s room in my blue suit, sucking in my gut the whole way. The effort both exhausted me and made me look constipated.

  Either way, when Orynna opened the door, I forgot all about how I looked. I also forgot how to breathe, where I was, and what my parents had named me.

  Orynna had dyed her hair indigo and tied it up in a galactic swirl of braids and curls that made her both regal and sylphan. Her eyes shone the brightest blue of a morning summer sky. She floated out of her room, and the door slid shut behind her.

  “Shall we go?” she said, extending her elbow toward me.

  After much time and consideration, I slipped my arm into hers and replied, “G’duh.”

  *

  Because the performance was by a string quartet, and because the acoustics in the domes were atrocious, I’d booked us seats front and center. Impressed by my foresight, Orynna smiled and pinched my arm as we sat down.

  “You look lovely,” I managed to say, though my slack jaw and wide eyes had already shouted it.

  “Thank you. I’m glad we’re doing this.”

  “When was the last time you heard live music?”

  Hey, it wasn’t the smoothest icebreaker, but at least it was actual words.

  “Back on Moirana. Before I left for my first station
posting. So that would have been three Earth years ago.”

  “Do you ever miss your home planet?”

  “Sometimes. I don’t always miss the people though. Moirana society can be suffocating. Do you miss Earth?”

  “Not really. I always kind of felt like I was on my own little planet even when I lived there.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I don’t understand how most people see things. It’s like they’re all seeing a different reality than me. And I’m seeing the wrong one.”

  “Did you ever think it’s the other way around? That you’re the one who’s seeing the world right.”

  “Maybe. Then the universe always finds a way of showing it disagrees with me.”

  “I understand exactly.”

  The musicians took their seats, and after the cellist introduced the evening’s program, they began to play.

  The piece blended the ancient Moirana concerto called “The Origins of Time” with an orchestral suite by Earth composer Gustav Holst called “The Planets.”

  During the first transition to the Holst piece, my suit started digging into the bulge of flesh above my waist. Without looking away from the quartet, I slid my hand down my side to dig it out and bumped Orynna’s arm.

  I was going to play it off as an accident until she turned and gazed at me. I stared back at her, and a hybrid of terror and courage inspired me to take her hand.

  She leaned in and rested her head on my shoulder.

  *

  After the concert ended, she yawned and said she wanted to go straight back to her room. My heart sank a little, but I knew the date had to end.

  When we arrived at her place, she set her finger on the reader, and the door slid open. She entered.

  “OK, bye,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”

  She turned around.

  “Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” she said, then pulled me into the room and kissed me.

  The kiss lasted either a picosecond or a century. I couldn’t tell. All I was aware of was her lips warming mine, her perfume igniting my nerves, my heart hammering against my ribcage.

  She drifted back from me, eyes still closed, and smiled. The door shut behind us, and the lights dimmed.